


Vin Noir II -- Mymindsa Blanc

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-01
Updated: 2002-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Red runs my lover's blood, spilled for the flames of mine.





	Vin Noir II -- Mymindsa Blanc

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Vin Noir II -- Mymindsa Blanc

## Vin Noir II -- Mymindsa Blanc

#### by Mik

Date: Saturday, June 30, 2001 9:09 PM 

Entree 

TITLE: Vin Noir II -- Mymindsa Blanc  
NAME: Mik  
E-MAIL:   
**CATEGORY: M/K**  
RATING: NC-17. M/K. This story contains slash i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution. Of course if you have four arms you can throw caution to the wind.  
SUMMARY: Red runs my lover's blood, spilled for the flames of mine. ARCHIVE: Only with my permission.  
FEEDBACK: Feedback? Well, yes, if you insist ... TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This is an AU, very vague spoilers for multiple episodes, nothing current.  
KEYWORDS: story slash angst Krycek Mulder R DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek, and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. I'd rather say that they really are mine, but I've been advised to deny everything. All of the above is true EXCEPT Mulder's nipples. They belong to Bertina. I gave them to her.  
CAUTION: This isn't schmoop. If you like the idea of a restrained Mulder, helpless in the hands of ... oh, who am I talking to? Never mind.  
Author's notes: To my own sommelier, thank you for inspiring this intriguing little wine.  
If you like this, there's more at http://www.squidge.org/3wstop If you didn't like it, come see me, anyway. Pet the dog. 

* * *

Vin Noir -- Mymindsa Blanc  
by Mik 

He's been very quiet. But then, Mulder knows the rules. When I left him he was so hard he could have drilled core samples with his dick. He knows if he wants me to do something about it, he'll be quiet `til I come back in there. He knows he's being punished. But it's a punishment for me as well, because I can still see him trussed up, ankles and wrists level with his shoulders, a thick rubber plug clearly visible between his well spread cheeks. 

We had another fight. He's got to learn to behave himself, remember who he is, to himself and, more importantly, to me. So, I pace. I have a cigarette. I pace some more. I know he's in there suffering. I know I left him in a bitch of a position and he'll walk funny for a week when I'm through. I know he needs to take the pressure off his ... assets. But I have no choice. It's my responsibility to make sure he follows the rules. 

Finally, I can stand it no longer. A man can only bear so much, you know. I push the door open and let the light from the living room spill across the floor, creeping like a sharp point to prod at his bottom, cut up between his legs, illuminate what's left of his erection. There is enough left to be impressed. After all, I've left him hanging, so to speak, for over an hour. His head was drooping slightly but as the light reaches his face, he lifts his head with a soft snort and his head turns toward the door. I'm not sure how he knew, except perhaps, he just knows. He's frighteningly canny that way. 

He knows better than to speak to me. He waits, barely breathing, tongue tip darting nervously to his lips and back. His breath is hitching in anticipation. He waits while I stand in the doorway, watching him, knowing his butt must hurt, his legs must be cold and numb, but watching that magnificent cock stir against his body, knowing that I'm there. 

Finally I move toward him. His breathing quickens as I near him. He lifts his head, mouth open slightly, seeking absolution. I touch his cheek softly. "Alex ..." he makes my name a sigh. 

I let my hand fall, down along his chest, covered in cooled perspiration, along the stiffening shaft of his cock, dragging my knuckles over his drawn up balls. One fingertip presses against the plug and he groans, deep in his belly. "S'gonna hurt," he whines as I give it a tiny tug. 

"Yeah," I agree. I look up to his bed and leave him for a moment. 

"Krycek." Now his voice is an agonized protest. He twists his head, trying to find me. 

From the top of the bed I drag all of our pillows and bring them to the floor between his legs. It's a trick I've perfected with practice, lifting his bum with my feet just enough to push one, then two, then a third pillow under him. He's groaning as I tilt his body forward. His cock bounces against his belly, and the plug moves spasmodically beneath his balls. "Please, Alex," he whispers. "Please." 

I kneel between his thighs, dragging my nails over one whip savaged leg. He arches and cries as I do it. "Hurt, baby?" I tease. 

"Hurts like a sonofabitch," he snarls. 

I smile, but the smile is for me. I lean over just enough to press my mouth where I had antagonized the welt high on the back of his leg. I can taste soap and his sweat and a little blood. It's like wine to me, and I suck thirstily. 

He starts to thrash a little, but his violated bum keeps him from getting too far out of control. "Please," he whines. "I promise I'll be good. I'll be so good." 

I lick inward, toward the inguinal crease. Up his torso, avoiding his genitals entirely. Kissing and laving each welt, each wound. 

"Alllllexxx," he moans. "Come onnn. I said I'd be good." 

"Mmm, I know you will be, baby." My hand cups and caresses his reddened cheeks, my tongue and teeth worry at his whipped flesh. "You're always so good." 

He's torn now between the pain of his position and the pleasure of my touch. I know he loves this part, the gentleness, the loving possession. I try to make it good, to make it last for him. I find his lips and part them with my tongue, gently slipping in and out, a contrast to the way I raped his mouth earlier. He still tastes of my cum and I lick around his lips, suck his tongue, draw his breath into mine. 

He moans into my mouth. I can feel it all the way down my spine. I reach for his balls and stroke them, with fingertips only, slow maddening circles that make him try to defy ropes and gravity and the fullness of his bottom to lift into my hand. He's muttering now. Some language unknown to anyone but saints and sadists and lovers of both. He tries to pump against my hand, knowing every movement brings pain. 

I leave his mouth regretfully, licking back down between his legs, pausing over his unyielding nipples, testing them with tongue tip and teeth. I smile at his parted lips, as he pants, and I remember the night I made him come by doing nothing more than using my flogger on his nipples. I think he's remembering that same night. 

I move lower. His cock lifts in response. I hear him sigh, "Yessssss." I open my mouth, hovering over the glistening glans, letting him feel the heat of my mouth. 

Then I move on. 

His head falls back against the bed and he begins to cast aspersions on my mother and my father. I suck one of his balls into my mouth roughly. 

He tastes so good. I roll it in my mouth like a lemon sherbet, sweet, sharp, round, full of that wonderful treat you find inside. I suck him, as if I expect him to melt and let that tangy gel spill and roll over my tongue. 

I would have taken him into my mouth, I would have had pity on him then, but for the unexpected heaviness between my legs. I thought I was spent, but Mulder ... he can raise the dead. I shift to take both testicles into my mouth and at the same time yank the plug from his hole. 

He arches up hard, screaming obscenities. The sound ripples down my spine like warm water. I have to have him now. I release him and turn sharply, putting my weight against his aching body to guide myself into his opened bum. 

"Nooooo," he wails, tugging at his restraints. "No, please, not like this." 

I shove. With all my weight against him, thrusting up into his ass, I know I'm driving long cold needles into his stiffened muscles, pulling hard on his bones and joints. He's openly weeping now as I push my cock into his dry hole. "Don't, don't, don't," he begs in rhythm to my thrusts. I wrap my arms around him, pull my thighs up under his to get a better angle, cover his mouth with mine and use my tongue the same way I use my cock; thrust, pull, thrust, thrust, pull. In and out. Deep. Hard. He's going to feel me for a week. 

And I'm going to feel him. 

"Please," he cries against my mouth. "Don't." 

"Have to, baby. Need you too much." 

"Don't make me come like this," he sobs. "My legs will cramp up and I won't be able to ... ohh, shit, Alex ... feels so good." 

"So good," I echo. He's tight and dry yet soft inside. Hot. Grips me. Clings to me. Milks me. 

His head falls back on the bed, he's managed to toss around `til the tie has come off, and he lifts his head to look into my eyes. "You're a bastard, Alex," he tells me, but the tone of his voice belies the meaning of the words. 

I can barely speak. All of my focus, all of my energy is focused between his upraised legs. "I ... love ... you ... too," I gasp. 

"Please, Alex," he moans, wincing. I can feel what he's doing, bearing down on me, making his body grip and push and suck. "Let me up. Don't make me come this way." 

I'm losing control. "Do y-you want to come, b-baby?" I grunt, pushing harder. I can feel him tear a little. 

He starts swearing again, English, French, maybe a little Urdu. "Fuck me, Alex. Now. Harder. Now. I'll do anything you say. Just do it now. Oh, shit, now." 

That's it. When he reaches that point, that point where he's a moment away from offering to fuck Republicans on CNN, I lose every semblance of being in control. He knows it. He knows I'm no longer the top, the master, the Dom. I'm a helpless little rabbit and he's in total command. All it takes is one twitch, one word, one gesture, and I explode with a little rabbit-y cry and a shot of hot cum. 

A moment later, I've gathered my heart and swallowed again, every muscle in my body in spasm, so that I twitch and jerk as if in seizure. I can't talk. I fall against his sweat slick body, feeling my cum and his tears starting to spill from deep inside him. His erection is enormous, hot, throbbing under my belly. We're both silent. He's crying. 

"Good boy," I manage at last. 

"Good boy," he repeats in a tiny whisper. "Please. I'll be a good boy." 

I drag myself to my knees and kiss his swollen, tear wet lips and cheeks. "I love you, baby." I wait `til he opens his eyes. "Do you know that?" 

He closes his eyes and smiles against my mouth. "I know that." 

  * END - 



* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Mik 


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